


The ABC Affair II Challenge

by JantoJones



Series: The ABC Affair II [1]
Category: The Man From U.N.C.L.E. (TV)
Genre: Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-06-05
Updated: 2018-07-03
Packaged: 2019-05-18 14:04:29
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 26
Words: 7,068
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14854194
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/JantoJones/pseuds/JantoJones
Summary: A 26 day challenge in Section VII, on Live Journal.This is a series of shorts, drabbles and micro-drabbles. Each work features a town or city from around the world, the names of which begin with a consecutive letter of the alphabet.





	1. Angelica, NY

“You seem a little tense, Tovarisch,” Napoleon commented, as he beckoned the diner waitress over to him. “What’s up?”

Illya waited until Napoleon had ordered another coffee and for the waitress to walk away.

“I question the reason the contact chose this place in particular.”

Napoleon looked out of the window at the town. Angelica, NY was a little, pretty town, with its old houses and tree lined streets. There was nothing about it which could possibly alarm anyone.

“We’re only going to be here long enough to see what this operative wants. Then we can leave.”

U.N.C.L.E. had received a message that a Thrush operative needed to make contact with Napoleon and had given a date, time, and address. Although such messages couldn’t always be trusted, it often paid not to ignore them. With Illya as back-up, Napoleon had acceded to the request.

Illya was about to shrug away his concerns when the door to the diner opened and a woman stepped in.

“I knew I was right about to be worried,” he practically snarled. “She was giving you a clue. Call me in a few hours when you’ve finished.

Napoleon turned to see what Illya was staring at. He smiled broadly as he watched Angelique gliding towards him.


	2. Beppu, Japan

Illya Kuryakin was generally an exceptionally good pick-pocket. It was rare indeed for him to be noticed so, when he lifted the plans for a Thrush plot from the pocket of a courier, he was quite surprised to be caught out by the man. Without a second thought, Illya turned on his heels and sprinted away; with the Thrushie in hot pursuit. 

Although it was evening, there were still many people visiting the Tatsumaki Jigoku, ‘Spout Hell’, one of the ‘Hells of Beppu’. The town of Beppu, in Japan, was home to eight hot springs. Each had different characteristics from the others, with Tatsumaki Jigoku featuring a boiling hot geyser, which erupted every thirty or forty minutes.

As he ran, Illya was continually checking over his shoulder for his pursuer so almost failed to notice the spring. At the last moment, he became all too aware of it and only just prevented himself from going over the edge. The Thrushie wasn’t so lucky.

The man tried to stop, but momentum carried him over, yelling in terror, into the boiling spring. He hit the water just as the geyser erupted. Some of the people around Illya began to scream, knowing the man wouldn’t survive. The agent calmly peered over the edge.

“Sayonara,” he muttered, matter-of-factly, as he tucked the plans in his pocket, before walking away.


	3. Copenhagen, Denmark

“I am always struck by how sad she seems,” Illya commented, as he and Napoleon looked across to the sculpture of the Little Mermaid.

The agents had finished up their assignment in Copenhagen, Denmark, earlier than anticipated, and were killing time before their flight home by sightseeing. Although he’d seen the sculpture on before, Illya always felt a sense of sorrow coming from the bronze woman. 

“Well wouldn’t you be?” Solo asked.

“What do you mean?” Kuryakin replied

“The poor girl is sitting, stark naked, on a cold rock in Scandinavia.”

Illya said nothing, opting instead to roll his eyes.


	4. Durham, UK

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm not going to lie. This story isn't so much an UNCLE tale, and more about me showing off that I know something local to me. I live only 9 miles outside of Durham City.
> 
> FYI - The name of the river is pronounced 'we - ar'.

Neither Napoleon nor Illya spoke as they ambled along alongside the River Wear, which threaded its way through the heart of Durham City, in the North-East of England. The footpath was at the base of a peninsula, on which stood the 900-year-old Cathedral and Castle. On both sides of the river, the trees were in full leaf, forming a beautiful green canopy. The early morning sunlight filtered through the leaves and left a dappled pattern on the ground they walked on.

There were very few people around at this early hour, other than a few students from the university. Napoleon got the distinct impression that they were returning to their digs from a night out, rather than heading to lectures.

“How far along is it?” Napoleon asked his partner.

“According to the map, it is where the river suddenly bends to the left,” Illya replied. “We should be just about there.”

They were searching for the location of a dead drop. The only instruction they had been given was ‘Behind the Count’s House, Durham City’. It hadn’t taken much research for them to learn about the small, Grecian style folly, built in around 1820. Although not a true fact, many people often claimed that it had been the home of Count Joseph Boruwlaski. He was a Polish count who stood at 3 ft 3 inches. He had indeed lived in Durham, but the house was not his. This didn’t stop people naming it ‘the Count’s House’ or calling its location ‘Count’s Corner’.

Rounding the corner, the two men found themselves in front of the diminutive building.

“You can see why people thought it was the home of a dwarf,” Napoleon commented.

“It would be quite cramped even for a man of his stature,” Illya replied, though he couldn’t help but be amused by the existence of such a structure. 

“I was reading through a few books on the history of this city,” he continued. “I would very much like to return one day and fully explore.”

Napoleon smiled as he recognised the tone in Illya’s voice. He was a man with a thirst for knowledge who had just discovered something new. If the Russian ever did get a chance to return to Durham, Solo was in no doubt he would learn everything there was to learn.

“Come on, Tovarisch,” he urged. “Let’s get the package and get on with the business of the day.


	5. Épinal, France

Having finished up an affair, which had led them to Épinal, Napoleon Solo and Illya Kuryakin had been recalled to New York. However, Napoleon decided to delay them for a few hours.

“Mr Waverly will not be happy,” Illya warned him.

“I will take full responsibility,” Solo told him. “But I have to do something on behalf of my father.”

Before Illya could ask what his partner was planning on doing, the American had stopped a passer-by. With an atrocious accent he asked the woman where he could find the Épinal American Cemetery and Memorial. It turned out that the cemetery was actually situated four miles away, in the village of Dioze, at the foothills of the Vosges Mountains.

“Is a comrade of your father buried in the cemetery?” Illya asked, as they headed in the direction they had been given.

“My Uncle Bruce,” Napoleon replied, with sadness colouring his tone. “He wasn’t my actual uncle, but he and Dad were so close that he felt like an uncle. He used to take me fishing, and often let me sip his beer when Mom wasn’t looking.”

Napoleon smiled at the memories. There had been one instance when his mother had caught him with the beer can at his lips, and he had gotten a hiding. Bruce had apologised and promised it wouldn’t happen again. Of course, this had been a complete lie.

“He was killed in ’44 and, for many reasons, my father hasn’t yet had the chance to visit,” Napoleon continued. “I promised that if I was ever in the area, I would come here to let Bruce know he hadn’t been forgotten, and that Dad would come as soon as he could.”

The two men lapsed in to silence until they reached the cemetery. When Napoleon got out of the car, Illya opted to remain behind. This was a private moment in which he had no place. As he watched Napoleon walk towards the entrance, Illya pondered about the future. He wondered if there would ever be a day when they were considered uncles to one another’s children.


	6. Florence

“Are you going to emerge from your sulk anytime soon?” Illya asked his morose partner.

Napoleon had been in a grumpy mood ever since Mr Waverly had told him where their assignment was going to take them. He had initially been quite excited, but that had changed rapidly when they were given further details.

“I had started to plan my date with the absolutely perfect Guilietta,” he said, his voice almost a whine.

“There is nothing to prevent that, surely,”

“There is one little thing, Tovarisch,” Napoleon replied. “Guilietta lives in Florence, Italy. We are being sent to Florence, Illinois.”


	7. Gruyères, Switzerland

Napoleon dripped the bread, which was skewered onto the long stemmed fork, into the molten cheese of the fondue. He swirled it around for a few seconds before lifting it out, and twirled it to catch any drips. Then, with exaggerated care, he leaned across the table and fed it to his date. Lily made wonderfully appreciative noises as she ate it, which did nothing to quench the fire that was already burning in Napoleon’s loins.

He made a mental note to thank Illya. The Russian had been on assignment in Switzerland, and had taken the time to go to the town of Gruyères to pick up some authentic Gruyères cheese. For now through, Napoleon very definitely didn’t need his partner in his head. He dismissed the man from his mind and went back to concentrating on feeding the cheese to Lily. He’d read somewhere that eating cheese at night would cause nightmares. Napoleon didn’t see that being a problem, as he had no intention of sleeping.


	8. Helsinki, Finland

From the moment they had arrived in Helsinki, Napoleon had noted a distinct change in Illya’s demeanour. The Russian seemed to have become sad and wistful. Solo waited until they were in their hotel suite before asking him what was wrong.

“I should have been here in 1952,” Illya told him. “As part of the Soviet gymnastics team. It was the first time the Soviet Union had participated.”

“Participated in what,” his partner asked.

He was aware that Illya had briefly been a gymnast, but he was at a loss to know what he was talking about.

“The Olympic Games,” Illya informed him. “Unfortunately, I was injured so couldn’t compete.”

“How did the rest of the gymnastics team do?”

“Nine gold, eleven silver and two bronze. I could not say for certain whether I would have medalled, but I regret that I lost my chance to try.”

Napoleon couldn’t think of anything he could say to console his partner, then he was struck by a sudden thought.

“That’s why you ignore injuries when on assignment,” he stated. “An injury prevented you from completing your mission of competing in the Olympics. Because of that, you refuse to let injuries get in your way now.”

Illya cocked his head to one side, as he thought about Napoleon’s words. He couldn’t deny that his partner probably had a point.

“You may well be right, my friend,” he replied, with a smile suddenly lighting up his face. “I did not get a chance to perform, but that in itself gave me a determination I still have to this day.”

Napoleon mirrored Illya’s smile. He wasn’t entirely sure that his friend’s determination was all that good for him, but at least he was no longer feeling the sadness his missed chance.


	9. Innsbruck, Austria

Climbing up into the mountains, which loomed over the Tyrolean Alpine town of Innsbruck in Austria, the two U.N.C.L.E. agents were on their way to meet a contact. With Illya stuck back in New York, thanks to his mouth getting him into trouble with a Thrush interrogator, Napoleon was partnered with Mark Slate. Solo had initially opted to meet the contact alone, but as Mark had been in the area finishing up an assignment, Waverly had suggested they team up.

“Do you actually know where we’re going,” Slate asked, after they’d been climbing for over an hour “I’m being to think Illya isn’t exaggerating about your ability to get lost.”

Napoleon pulled a sour expression, but didn’t rise to the bait.

“We’re almost there,” he replied instead. “We just need to reach the next plateau and call the contact.”

“Call?” Mark queried. “There are no phones up there, and shouting out his name wouldn’t be safe.”

“You’ll find out when we get there.”

Twenty minutes later the two men reached the plateau, and sat down to catch their breaths for a while.

“Come on then, mate,” Mark prompted. “How are you going to call this contact?”

Standing up, Napoleon faced the mountain and cupped his hands around his mouth. He then did something which caused Mark’s eyes to widen with surprise.

“YODEL-AY-EEE-OOH!!”

A few seconds later, the yodel was answered with another.

“Now we wait for him to come to us.”

“Where did you learn to do that?” the Brit asked, a smirk threatening to appear on his face.

“I once had a date with a woman from Innsbruck,” Napoleon told him.

“And she taught you how to yodel?”

“Yes. After she taught me a few other things.”

Mark decided to end that line of questioning. He certainly wasn’t a prude, but there were some things he just didn’t want to know about.


	10. Jaén, Spain

Napoleon Solo and Illya Kuryakin had been sitting outside the cantina, in the heart of the town of Jaén, for over an hour. They were surveilling a house across the town square and taking notes of who came and went. It was believed that Thrush were moving into the area and the agents had instructions to ascertain the validity of the information they had been given. To the casual observer, however, they looked to be nothing more than tourists. Unfortunately, as it turned out, there was a non-casual observer watching them.

The watcher allowed them to wait for another hour before coming out of the house and making a beeline for the agents.

“Good afternoon, gentlemen,” he greeted them, almost warmly. “Allow me to save U.N.C.L.E. some of your valuable time, despite you having wasted quite a lot of ours. Given that you are on to our new venture, we will no longer be setting up business here. You may as well go.”

With that, the man turned on his heel and strode back to the house.

“What do you think?” Illya asked his partner.

“I say we see the surveillance out for as long as we have been instructed, but tell Waverly of the development,” Napoleon replied, as he flicked through the book of tourist information he had been pretending to read. 

Illya agreed, and took out his communicator to contact the Old Man. Waverly told them to wait for another hour or two. It was unlikely to yield anything, but he didn’t want Thrush thinking they could chase his agents away that easily. Putting his communicator away, Illya called the waiter over and ordered more drinks.

“Hey, look at this,” Napoleon said, pointing to a page in his book. “It says here that Jaén is the ‘World capital of olive oil’.

Noting the twinkle in Napoleon’s eye as he tried to goad his partner, Illya’s expression turned frosty. He didn’t rise to the other man’s bait, but found himself rubbing his head where the olive oil jar had hit him during the Casbah affair.


	11. Kiev, (The) Ukraine

Many years had passed since he had last set foot in Kiev. These days he could come and go as he wished, without people questioning his motives. For some reason his former colleagues couldn’t grasp the fact that he occasionally felt homesick. However, each time he had visited over the years, it had become more and more alien to him. He still missed Kiev, of course he did, but the place he missed wasn’t the same place that was here now.

As the eighty-four year old Illya Kuryakin strolled around the streets of his former home he realised, with some sadness, that he no longer belonged here. The country was now independent, yet he still found it hard not to call it ‘The’ Ukraine. When he had first left, as a child, to go Moscow, he had been a citizen of the Soviet Union. When he had joined U.N.C.L.E. he was often referred to as ‘the Russian’. Few people called him ‘the Ukrainian’.

When he really thought about it, he noted that only small fraction of his life had been lived here. He had lived in many places, but had spent the last few decades in New York. He had built a life, a home, and a family there. Had his parents and siblings survived, there may have been a reason to return to his homeland permanently, but there was nothing left for him here.

“Are you okay, Grandpa?”

Illya turned to his grandson and smiled. The boy was thirty years old and looked exactly like the man he had been fifty years ago.

“I am fine,” he replied.

His smile turned into a grin as he realised what he had just said. When he was an active agent, those words were usually the signal to Napoleon Solo that all was not fine. At the thought of his long-time friend his sadness deepened. He missed the American far more than he missed the place of his birth.

“You look tired, Grandpa,” the younger Kuryakin stated. “Maybe we should go back to the hotel.”

“I believe it is time to go home,” Illya replied. “Can you get the flights to New York changed?”

“No problem.”

Illya watched in wonder as his grandson used his smartphone to change the flights. It took him barely anytime at all. Illya had once been exceptionally adept with technology, but it had soon gone far beyond his comprehension. He had belonged in several worlds at one time. Now he only had one world and, although he sometimes longed for times past, it was more than enough for him.


	12. Limerick, Ireland

“What rhymes with uncle,” asked Napoleon.

He was sitting in the passenger seat of their hired car with a pad and pen, while his partner drove.

Illya glanced over to his partner and tried not to sigh. He had known from the moment they had been sent to Limerick, in Ireland, that Napoleon would eventually attempt to write one of the five line poems of the same name.

“Carbuncle,” he suggested.

“Perfect!”

He fell silent for a minute or two before dramatically clearing his throat.

“There once were two agents from U.N.C.L.E.  
Who to Thrush were a major carbuncle  
They did all they were able  
Against birdies so unstable  
Those handsome, brave agents of U.N.C.L.E.”

“Very clever,” Illya replied, with a deadpan tone.

“You do better!” Napoleon challenged.

Illya thought for a while.

“Very well,” he said. 

Solo, who was a man who had flair  
Was obsessed by his clothing and hair  
His partner gave sighs  
And rolled both his eyes  
But Solo never noticed his glare.”

“That isn’t funny,” Napoleon huffed, unconsciously teasing his hair into place.


	13. Milan, Italy

Napoleon was in heaven. In his guise as a fashion journalist, with Illya as his photographer, he was having the time of his life amongst all the fashionistas and models of Milan Fashion Week. Their assignment was to make contact with an Italian U.N.C.L.E. agent who was working deep cover in a fashion studio. The studio, Casa Degli Uccelli, was known to be owned by Thrush, and which was operated as a legitimate business. However it was also useful for gaining access to those in Europe who held vast fortunes. The agents’ assignment was to take note, and photograph, anyone that Thrush operatives got friendly with.

“There are some amazingly beautiful women here,” Napoleon commented, when he an Illya took a break for lunch.

“Be very careful, my friend,” his partner warned. “Some of these women have not yet reached adulthood.”

“Credit me with some sense, Tovarisch,” Solo retorted. “I’m also enjoying some of the new styles on show. Skirts seen to be getting even shorter.”

“Any shorter and there would be very little point to them,” Illya replied. “Not that I am complaining. I may not show my admiration as openly as you but, believe me, I appreciate a shapely woman just as much. Saying that, there are ways for a woman to accentuate her figure, without showing so much naked flesh.”

“So you’re an expert in female fashion now?”

“Not an expert, no. However, with the right fabric, in the right colour, and cut just the right way, a woman can be fully covered, yet still show off her figure.”

Napoleon shook his head in disbelief.

“I shall look forward to your first collection after you retire from the field,” he scoffed. “Come on, it’s time to get back to work.


	14. Nottingham, UK

The choice of dead drop location was far too obvious for Illya’s liking but, luckily, it went without a hitch. The courier left the package in waste bin, situated near the sculpture of Robin Hood, in the city of Nottingham. While he retrieved it, Napoleon studied the sculpture.

“What do you think?” he asked when his partner returned. “Was Robin Hood a hero or a criminal?”

“Both,” Illya replied. “By definition, a criminal is one who commits a crime. Robbery is a crime, therefore Robin Hood was a criminal.”

“And also a hero?”

“Indeed. The authorities took more from the people than they could afford, leaving them to starve. Robin Hood gave it back. Although I do not condone the means, they were justified by the ends. It was simply a fair distribution of wealth.” 

“Careful Tovarisch,” Napoleon warned. “Your upbringing is showing.”

“You say that as though it were a bad thing,” Illya retorted. “As I am hungry, and have no wish to enter into a socio-political argument, I believe we should go for lunch.”

“Are you paying?” Solo asked.

“Since most of my wealth has been distributed to you, I would say that it is your turn to pay.”


	15. Oceanside CA, USA

Stretching out on a sun lounger Napoleon smiled in contentment. He and Illya had finished their assignment in the Californian city of Oceanside, and didn’t have to head back to New York until the following morning. Illya had decided that he was going to indulge in a little surfing, so Napoleon decided to lie on beach and watch the ladies passing by. 

Solo looked out onto the ocean and saw Illya go from straddling a surfboard to standing up as he rode the wave which had swelled up beneath him. It often puzzled Napoleon that his partner could easily float on a surfboard while awaiting a wave, yet put him on a boat and his seasickness would kick in almost immediately. Not that it mattered really. It was good to see Illya let himself relax so much, as it was rare for him to do so when he was out in the open.

A shadow fell across him and Napoleon looked up to find a shapely brunette holding out a bottle of tanning lotion.

“Would you mind?” she asked.

……………………………

Landing his board on the beach, Illya looked over to see Napoleon rubbing oil onto the body of an attractive woman. He smiled, having known it to be inevitable. Picking up the board, Illya re-entered the water and paddled out to catch the next wave. This period of freedom wouldn’t last long, and he was going to enjoy every minute.


	16. Pamplona, Spain

The briefcase, which contained details of mid-level Thrush officials, had only been in Illya’s possession for ten minutes before it was stolen by an opportunistic thief. The agent was so intent on retrieving it that he failed to take note of the streets he was being led along. He had been aware that the famous Pamplona ‘Running of the Bulls’ was taking place but, the only thing he had on his mind as he chased the thief, was the chewing out by Waverly he would get.

It wasn’t until the thief reappeared, from around the corner he had just gone around, that Illya remembered the bull running. He then became cognisant of the people cheering and shouting from the windows along the street, and a loud rumbling, which could only be the sound of the bulls. 

As the thief sprinted passed him, he thrust the case back at Illya who, though in a trance, grabbed a hold of it. He was staring at where the man had just come from. A sea of young men, dressed in white shirts and trousers, with red scarves at their waists and necks, were thundering towards him. Behind them came a lot of very annoyed bulls.

Illya’s survival instinct finally kicked in, and e had seconds to prevent himself from being trampled. To his left was an unoccupied window with a wide ledge, which he just managed to jump onto by the skin of his teeth. He watched with a mixture of fascination and terror as men and bulls ran past him.

A few seconds afterwards, Illya’s communicator bleeped.

“Did you get the information, Mr Kuryakin?” asked Mr Waverly.

“Yes Sir,” Illya replied. “No problem.”


	17. Quanzhou, China

Napoleon watched with absolute fascination as Illya devoured enough food to feed at least three people, weilding his chopsticks as though he were born to them. They were in the Chinese port city of Quanzhou awaiting the ship which would take them on the next part of their journey home. As they’d had two hours to spare, Illya had decided to partake of the local cuisine.

Most of the food Illya had ordered for them was quite enjoyable to Napoleon, but he turned his nose up at the braised frog.

“You don’t get this at the Fortune Palace,” he commented, thinking about the fare offered by his favourite Chinese restaurant in New York.

“You wouldn’t,” Illya told him, his voice slightly muffled by the food in his mouth. “The Fortune Palace, like most Chinese restaurants in the west, is Cantonese, and this is Fujian. Besides, the owners of those restaurants westernised and sanitised their traditional foods to appeal to the western palate. If you want genuine Chinese food, you have to come to China. You should try the frog, it is delicious.”

“No thanks, Tovarisch, I’ll stick with the chicken.

“That isn’t chicken,” Illya replied, enigmatically.


	18. Runnymede, UK

Standing at a discreet distance from the main group, Napoleon Solo and Illya Kuryakin kept a careful watch for anything suspicious. They doubted anything would happen, given the amount of other security teams which were also present.

The two agents were with their boss, Alexander Waverly, in the capacity of bodyguards. Other dignitaries in attendance were, Queen Elizabeth the Second, British Prime Minister Harold Wilson, and several members of the Kennedy family; all of whom had enough security between them to form a small army. They were all at Runnymede, alongside the River Thames, for the dedication of the Memorial for John F. Kennedy, who had been assassinated eighteen months previously. 

There area was also the sight where the Magna Carta had been sealed by King John, in 1215, so this memorial was adding to the historical aura. The memorial itself comprised of a stepped pathway which wound up through woodland and a seven ton block of Portland stone inscribed with words from President Kennedy’s inaugural speech in 1961. A paved pathway then led to Seats of Contemplation from where visitors could enjoy the view over Runnymede. The ground on which the memorial was built had been gifted to the United States of America by the people of the United Kingdom.

When the dedication was over, and the various dignitaries prepared to head to Buckingham Palace for a reception, Napoleon and Illya stood by their boss in front of the stone tablet. 

The inscription read;

_“Let every Nation know, whether it wishes us well or ill, that we shall pay any price, bear any burden, meet any hardship, support any friend or oppose any foe, in order to assure the survival and success of liberty.”_

“That could almost be the motto of U.N.C.L.E.,” Napoleon commented.

“Indeed, Mr Solo,” the Old Man replied. “Regardless of politics, they are certainly good words for our organisation. What do you say, MrKuryakin?”

“I could not agree more, Sir.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The John F. Kennedy Memorial was opened by Queen Elizabeth the Second on May 14th 1965.


	19. Satu Mare, Romania

The town of Satu Mare, was fairly typical of most Romanian towns, and the hotel Napoleon and Illya had acquired was clean and comfortable. All in all, it served well enough to provide them with good food and a bed for the night.

However, the following morning, Napoleon looked pale and drawn, and had dark circles under his eyes. Although he joined his partner for breakfast, he could barely face so much as a cup of coffee.

“You look unwell,” Illya commented as he tucked into a plate of bread, feta cheese, and cold cuts.

“I had a terrible night,” Napoleon told him, stifling a yawn.

“The woman not up to standard?”

Solo gave Illya a pointed look.

“There was no woman,” he replied tersely. “Apart from in my nightmares.”

“Nightmares?”

Throughout the whole night, Napoleon had been tormented with visions of a woman torturing and murdering young women. During one particular nightmare he had entered a room where the woman lying in a bath filled with blood. When she saw him, she had climbed out and took him in a strong embrace, whereupon she began to nibble his neck.

“That’s when I woke up.”

“It sounds like you were dreaming of Elizabeth Báthory,” Illya commented, pouring another coffee for himself. “She was tried for the torture and murder of girls as young as ten.”

“I’ve heard of her!” Napoleon exclaimed. “That’s where the bathing in blood part came from.”

“That bit of the history is largely apocryphal.”

“Where does the neck biting come in?”

“When Elizabeth was alive, this whole country was called Transylvania,” Illya explained. “Satu Mare was owned by the Báthory family. Bram Stoker based the character of Dracula partly on Vlad the Impaler, and partly on Elizabeth Báthory. You must have already had that somewhere in your mind to have dreamt of it.”

“You must be right,” Solo replied, standing up. “I’m going to freshen up. I’ll meet you in your room later.”

In his own room, Napoleon looked at the sickly looking man in the mirror. He’d never seen himself looking so haggard. As he began to turn away, his attention was caught by two marks on his neck. If he hadn’t known better, he would have sworn they were puncture wounds.


	20. Tulln an der Donau, Austria

“Either hum the whole thing, or stop humming altogether!” Illya Kuryakin snapped irritably.

Napoleon had been humming the same few bars repeatedly since they had realised the need to board a boat in order to travel along the River Danube. They could have gone by road, but taking the river would get them ahead of the man they were chasing.

Illya had been rather fond of the Blue Danube, by Johann Strauss, as it had been the music with which he had been taught to waltz. Now, after what felt like hours of hearing the small part of it ad nauseam, he would be happy to not hear it again for some time.

“I thought you liked that tune,” Napoleon replied, in a deliberately jolly tone.

“I did,” Illya responded. “But if you persist in humming it, you will be able to see just how blue the Danube is from within.”

Napoleon waited until their journey was complete, and they were back on land, before taking u his humming where he left off.


	21. Uttoxeter, UK

Napoleon intensely studied the runners and riders as he and Illya sauntered around the Uttoxeter racecourse. None of the names, nor those of the owners and trainers, meant anything to him.

“I just don’t know how we’re supposed to pinpoint our man?” he said, handing the race cards to his partner.

Solo and Kuryakin had been sent to the UK to find a connection between British horse racing and a known Thrush gambling consortium. All they had discovered was that a Thrush owned horse was running at Uttoxeter that day. All they needed to do was find out who was linked to the horse and pass it on to the London headquarters. 

“It is number 6 in the 3:30,” Illya told him, after barely a glance.

“How on Earth do you know that?”

“Simple,” said Illya, in a tone which suggested it would be obvious to anyone. “That horse is called Fieldfare Filly.”

“You’re going to have to enlighten me, Tovarisch.”

“A fieldfare is a bird,” Illya explained. “A bird which belongs to the thrush family, Turdidae.”


	22. Verona, Italy

The Italian city of Verona was beautiful and, thanks to William Shakespeare using it as the setting for ‘Romeo and Juliet’, it was a draw for lovers. However, with its many narrow streets and alleyways, in was a security nightmare. Unfortunately, Veronica Waverly had set her heart on visiting the city, and her husband, Alexander, often tried to give her whatever she desired.

Two days before the start of the three day vacation, the city was reconnoitred by the Italian branch of U.N.CL.E., and plan was devised to ensure the Waverly’s safety. A total of six Italian agents, from Sections II and III, would take turns at stationing themselves at the various places the couple had decided to visit.

The day before the Waverly’s were due, four Section III, and two Section II agents from New York arrived and liaised with their Italian colleagues. Plans and itineraries were checked and tweaked until everyone was happy. The agents from New York were to move around the city, discreetly, keeping the Waverly’s in their line of sight at all times.

Finally, Mr and Mrs Waverly would have a personal bodyguard each. The Command had started to allow female agents, meaning that Alexander Waverly could rest assured that his wife would be accompanied even when she went into the bathroom.

The whole trip went off without a hitch and the Waverly’s enjoyed a wonderfully relaxing break. The last place they visited, before heading to the airport, was balcony at Juliet’s House. Even though Romeo and Juliet were entirely fictitious, they house was a draw for tourists. Veronica hugged her husband tightly.

“Thank you, my dear,” she whispered. “It’s so wonderful to get away, just the two of us.”


	23. Wimbledon, UK

Illya paced back and forth in Waverly’s office, chewing on his bottom lip and checking his watch, as he, his partner, and the Old Man waited for the telephone to ring. Napoleon was lounging of the sofa, trying not to show how tense he was. Forty minutes prior, the agents had been told by a Thrush prisoner that there was to be an assassination attempt on the players and attendees of the Men’s final of the Wimbledon Tennis Championships, which was due to take place in a few hours. It was even hoped that members of the Royal family would be caught up in it. It took one look at the infamous icy glare of the Russian for the man to give up his secrets. 

As was often the case with Thrush, their plan involved an unnecessary amount of theatrics. The paint, which was used to make the white lines of the court, had been substituted with an explosive substance. It was designed to begin exploding when a ball hit it at a high enough velocity. This would cause a chain reaction along the rest of the lines. As well as powerful explosions, a deadly gas would also be released. 

Napoleon and Illya had immediately informed Mr Waverly, who in turn had called the London office. He didn’t even question the validity of the statement, deciding it was always better to be safe than sorry. Of course, Waverly hoped that his agents were right about the threat. He was a member of the All England Lawn Tennis and Croquet Club of many years standing, and he would hate to put that in jeopardy.

Finally, the telephone rang. Napoleon and Illya were practically holding their breaths as they waited for the news.

“Very well done, gentlemen,” Waverly said, after replacing the receiver. “Our London people were able to persuade the police to evacuate the club, which caused quite a lot of panic as you can imagine. However, it seems your information was quite accurate. Many people, including the Queen herself, would have been killed. The match has been rescheduled for tomorrow, and you have both been invited to attend.”

Napoleon and Illya couldn’t hide their grins at the unexpected reward, and asked permission to leave in order to pack. This was given without issue.

“Be on your best behaviour, gentlemen,” Waverly warned them. “You will be sitting two seats behind the Queen, in the Royal Box.”


	24. Xanten, Germany

The assignment on which Illya Kuryakin was engaged was one for which he would have happily gone without his U.N.C.L.E. pay. Having spent almost a day in the German town of Xanten, he was fully au fait with the town and its surrounding areas. He was also absolutely certain that the information he had been given was correct. 

As soon as nightfall came, he made his way to a small forest, not far from the town and soon found what he was looking for. Hidden in the forest was an ammunitions factory which had supplied the Luftwaffe during World War Two. At the beginning of the war the workforce was comprised of the local townspeople. As time went on, however, a slave labour force made up of women, children and foreigners took their places.

U.N.C.L.E. had received reports that the factory had been re-opened by Thrush, and was once being operated by slave labour. Illya had immediately volunteered to go in and demolish the structure. The glint in his eye had prompted Alexander Waverly to caution he young agent against doing anything rash. He understood Kuryakin’s zeal, as a child of the war, and as a man of honour and integrity, but that could not be allowed to cloud his judgement.

Ordinarily, Illya liked nothing more than a spectacular and fiery explosion. This time he didn’t really have that option; unless he wanted to burn down half the forest as well. He was going to have to rig the place to implode, and collapse in on itself. As an expert cat burglar, with an uncanny ability to blend in, it took Illya barely any time or effort to plant his charges and get out. Not wishing to cause arm to the innocent workforce, he sounded the alarms on the way. Everyone would have five minutes to clear out before the building collapsed.

From a safe hiding place amongst the trees, Illya silently counted down. He smiled grimly when the explosions started, but he didn’t feel as elated as he would have expected. Instead he felt as though he had reaped vengeance for all the lives which had been taken as a result of this place. It wasn’t just for the people who were directly killed by the ammunition produced, but also the innocent people who were lost in retaliatory action, simply because they had found themselves on the wrong side of the line.

“Never again,” Illya muttered to himself, before disappearing into the darkness of the forest.


	25. Yukon FL, USA

Yukon, Florida, was a ghost town but, unlike other ghost towns they’d been to, this one was somehow creepier. It had been closed down by the Navy, as a flight and safety hazard only a few months before. This meant that, although nature was starting to show signs of reclaiming the area, the town still looked as though people still lived there. The stillness, and lack of vehicles, told of the true state of the town.

“This place gives me the shivers,” Napoleon commented, as he and his partner brought their car to a halt in front of what had once been the Post Office.

“I know what you mean,” Illya replied. 

As they exited the vehicle, Illya kept his hand close to his gun; just in case. They were already expecting trouble, but the whole atmosphere around them made their nerves jangle.

The pair had been directed to the deserted town in order to pick up a package which contained details of yet another diabolical Thrush plot. The agent who had initially retrieved them had left them as a precaution, fearing that he had been compromised. As it turned out, a few hours after disclosing the location to HQ, the agent was found murdered.

As they entered the building their alertness levels skyrocketed. From somewhere within they could hear the sounds of something moving around. Fully expecting to come face to face with a Thrush operative, Napoleon and Illya drew their weapons and slowly moved towards the door, from behind which the noise was emanating.

The closer they got to the door, the less it human the sound seemed. With a glance at his partner, Napoleon reached out and turned the handle. As he pushed the door open, a ginger coloured ball of fur darted out; hissing at him as it passed by. Rather embarrassingly, Napoleon let out a slight yelp of surprise. He turned to Illya, hoping that he hadn’t noticed.

The Russian’s face was impassive, but Napoleon knew him too well. He could see the amused twinkle in the usually icy blue eyes, and the slight twitch of his lips as he fought against a smile.

“As the senior agent, I am declaring this incident to be classified,” Napoleon stated, with a glare which dared Illya to defy him.

“I am sorry, Napoleon,” the blond replied, trying to hold a laugh back. “You know what Mr Waverly thinks about leaving things out of mission reports.”

Solo huffed, knowing he was never going to hear the last of it.

“Come on, let’s get the package and leave. I’ve had enough of this place.”


	26. Z

“Do you realise that, for over three weeks, we have travelled across most of the globe?” Napoleon complained, taking his shoes off and resting his feet up on the desk. “I’m absolutely exhausted."

Illya tried to ignore his partner’s ramblings even though he was in full agreement with him. He wouldn’t have been surprised if they’d managed to go to places which covered the entire western alphabet.

“I think I’ll put in for some leave,” Solo continued, while yawning. “The only place I want to go is zzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzz.”

Illya looked across to Napoleon and smiled as the man softly snored.


End file.
